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Crashed Diet

, , , , , | Right | December 14, 2010

(A well-dressed woman and her teenage daughter are out to lunch at one of my tables. I have already brought them their drinks.)

Customer: *waving me over* “Miss! I asked for a diet soda.”

Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry. I must have picked up another server’s order by mistake. Let me get you a new one.”

(I fill a diet soda myself and deliver it. Before even tasting it, she speaks up.)

Customer: “No! This isn’t diet soda! I’m on a very strict diet and I can’t have carbs!”

Me: “I filled it myself. I assure you that it is diet.”

Customer: *poking the drink with a straw* “Then what are these? I can see the carbs everywhere!”

Me: “You can see the carbs, ma’am?”

Customer: “Yes! Are you blind? Can’t you see the bubbles?”

Customer’s Teenage Daughter: “Oh, my God, Mom! ‘Carbs’ mean carbohydrates, not carbonation!”

This story is part of the Children-Behaving-Better-Than-Their-Parents roundup!

Read the next Children-Behaving-Better-Than-Their-Parents roundup story!

Read the Children-Behaving-Better-Than-Their-Parents roundup!

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The Lost And Dumbfounded

, , | Right | November 19, 2007

Customer in the drive-thru: “Hi, I’d like a BK Veggie.”

Me: “Sir, you’re at Hardee’s, not Burger King. We don’t have any vegetarian entrees.”

Customer in the drive-thru: “Oh, okay. Thanks anyway.”

(Customer sat there for a few minutes before driving away.)

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Cutely Snaking Along

| Working | November 4, 2015

(I am a female receptionist at a flooring showroom. It’s been very hot lately and our showroom is pleasantly air conditioned. I get up from the reception desk to look through the double glass doors into the parking lot as a customer leaves. The door is slowly closing when I notice a three-foot California kingsnake is halfway into the office, inches from my sandaled toes. I notice the snake is coming through the tiny gap between the hinged side of metal door and the wall, and the slowly closing door is starting to squish it. I rush over and HOLD THE DOOR OPEN FOR THE SNAKE.)

Me: *half-hearted, almost embarrassed scream, because I was surprised… then just trying to get someone’s attention* “…Ahhh?”

Snake: *slithers under waiting area seats and chills out*

Me: *stares in stunned silence for a moment* “[Manager]?”

Manager: *from other side of store* “What?”

Me: “A snake just came in.”

Manager: “WHAT?!” *runs over and then lets out a legit scream, staying yards away with two desks between her and the snake* “OH, MY GOD! HOW DID IT GET IN?!”

Me: “A customer walked out the door, and it was slowly closing and then it was coming through and almost got stuck so I held the door open for it…”


Me: “I didn’t want it to get hurt! It’s cute!”

Manager: “Cute?! What do we do? Stay away from it! It might be poisonous!”

Me: “It’s just a kingsnake… um… I guess, get the warehouse manager?”

(She fetches the warehouse manager, who I only suggested because he does the most physical labor. They both come back in.)

Warehouse Manager: *takes one look at the snake* “NOPE.”

(Meanwhile, I’m crouched about three yards away from the snake, making cooing noises, and complimenting it like it’s a puppy. It still hasn’t moved from the waiting area.)

Me: “Aren’t you a beautiful snake? Yes, you are. So pretty! I guess we should call Animal Control?”

Manager: “Yes. I don’t want you touching it.”

(I get up to go to my desk, right next to the waiting snake.)

Manager: “What are you doing? I don’t want you to get stuck back there!”

Me: *sits down and calls Animal Control, then gets back up to watch the snake with fascination, with coworkers muttering how weird I am for liking snakes*

Warehouse Manager: “I texted [Salesperson] a photo of the snake and she says she isn’t coming back from lunch. She is never coming back.”

Me: “C’mon, it’s just a snake!”

Warehouse Manager: “How can you think that’s cute?”

(The Animal Control officer, a woman barely reaching 5’0″, comes in with a bucket and a hook on a long stick.)

Officer: “Oh, my god, it’s so cute!”

Me: “SEE? I’m not the only one!”

(The snake was safely removed and released. The salesperson eventually came back, but was close to tears at the mere idea there was a snake in the building.)

Salesperson: “What was it even doing in here?”

Me: “Maybe he wanted to check out our carpet samples!”

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The Lost And Take Whatever I Want

, , , | Right | April 7, 2008

Caller: “Hi, I lost my cellphone this weekend. I was wondering if you’d found it?”

Me: “Well, maybe. What does it look like?”

Caller: “It’s a black Nokia; orange on the sides.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but your phone is not here.”

Caller: “Oh. Well… can I come by and just, like, take another one?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Caller: “Well, you know, since I’ve lost my phone and all, and it’s not like the phones you have is anyone’s property…”

Me: “Ehm… well… how would you feel if I gave your phone away to someone else?”

Caller: *silence* “Well that would be kinda rude.”

Me: “Yes.”

Caller: *more silence* *click*

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Not In His Salad Days Anymore

, | Right | August 1, 2014

(I am a civilian contractor at a military installation’s dining hall. Unlike some of the comfort facilities at the installation, we don’t have restrictions on who can dine here; as long as they can access the installation, they can eat. It is my turn to tear down the salad bar at the end of dinner. I have taken out all of the utensils and begun to pull the dishes, when an older man in civilian clothing comes up behind me.)

Customer: “What are you doing with the salad bar?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. Did you order a salad?”

Customer: “No, I just wanted to get a few of these.” *gestures at the fruit mix at the end of the bar*

Me: “So, you did order a salad bar?”

Customer: “No, I just wanted to get a few of these.”

Me: “Sir?”

Customer: “Oh, you mean I have to order a salad bar to get things from the salad bar?”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Customer: “Oh.”

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